The Château
by Saab08
Summary: Nellie is a maid in Versailles, 1664. She leads a normal yet exciting life, discovering the many secrets that Versailles hides away. Blellie. *HIATUS*
1. Chapter 1: Back to the start

Chapter 1

_Versailles, France, 17th of July 1664_

Looking out of his window, he could see the reflection of the morning sun on the numerous fountains placed around the grounds, and how the golden rays were making the water shine and glimmer, giving the gardens an illusion of a fairy tale world, everything surrounded by the early morning glow. Mornings used to be her favorite part of the day. She used to love watching the sun go up, standing in front of the massive windows of the palace which allowed her to admire the view in it's full grandeur. She used to go up to him after the king's breakfast, and tell him about the different birds that had sung that day. She used to comment on all the new features and plants Le Notre had added to the already magnificent terrain. But that was all in the past. Now, he missed all those quirks and comments she used to make about the much respected yet dull etiquette, her long debates about the injustice of ranks that used to annoy him to no end, the way her eyes lit up as she talked about the new song that Lully had composed, how her smile showcased her beautiful teeth when he cracked one of his terrible jokes. He sighed, running a finger through his long hair. Why was he even thinking about her so much in the first place? It's not like she meant anything to him. And anyways, he couldn't afford to think about her in such a way. He was promised to someone else. He ran his fingers through his hair once more before he walked out his apartments to assist to the King's awakening, a frown of sorrow etched onto his handsome face.

_Versailles, France, 6__th__ of November 1657_

The snow covered Le Notre's gardens with a white a blanket, covering the flowerbeds that had illuminated the gardens in the spring. All the fountains were frozen, and the ice was reflecting the rays of the morning sunshine, adding to the already bright and blinding view. A petite girl with black hair scraped up into a tight bun was admiring that very view from one of the upstairs bedroom windows, getting lost in the breathtaking scenery.

'Nellie, hurry up. The Queen will be awake in 20 minutes, and my hair isn't even done.' The voice interrupted Nellie's fleeting thoughts, bringing her back to reality. She quickly took the hairbrush and the comb from the drawer and turned back to the woman sitting in front of the mirror, who had pushed away her blonde hair away from her face, and revealing her beautiful blue eyes.

'Sorry my lady' She mumbled, vexed by her carelessness. She couldn't afford to be irresponsible. She was lucky to have gotten this post as a maid, even more so since it was at Versailles. She tried her hardest at making the most intricate hairstyle in the shortest amount of time possible, doing her best to keep up with the constantly changing fashion of the court. She quickly, yet efficiently applied make up on her mistress's face, putting rouge on her lips and blush on her cheeks. In less than 15 minutes, Nellie was done, and her mistress smiled at her, seemingly pleased with the result, and left the room.

Nellie then proceeded with her usual morning routine, making the bed, folding away the many clothes, and many more, before leaving the room to go downstairs, towards the castle kitchens.

She entered the busy kitchen, different scents and smells coming from every corner of the room, the clattering of pans and cutlery resounding across the room. She walked over to a table where a couple of maids sporting a similar hair style where sat down. She installed herself in front of an untouched plate garnished with a piece of bread and a bowl of soup. She quickly tucked in, not talking to anyone around her. She was shy, and never got to know the other maids here in Versailles, too scared to initiate conversation. They had often tried to interact with her, but had given up after she failed to reply with more than one or two words. She watched a dark haired girl talking animatedly at the other end of the table, making the others laugh at her antics. That was Aylin. She was the most intimidating out of all of them, and even though she seemed nice, she had also given up unsuccessfully trying to pull words out of Nellie. She turned her attention back to her meal, dipping a piece of her bread into the soup. She sighed, wishing that there were someone here that she could talk to. Sure, she had Abe, her brother, who also worked in the castle, but as a cook, but he barely had any time for her, always trying to find a new recipe that would impress the King. She looked around the kitchen, trying to see if he was around. She was on the brink of stopping her search when she saw the short jet-black hair in the corner of the room. She stood up, clearing away her plate and putting it next to a sink, before walking towards her brother.

'Hey Abe.' She smiled at him. He didn't look up, too preoccupied in perfecting the icing on a cake. 'It looks beautiful. Just like a painting.' She complimented him. He had always had a knack at art, always fiddling with some of the ink and paint pots they had at home.

Abraham lifted up his head at the praise, realizing who it was. 'Hey Nells. Glad you like it.' He paused, fixing the tip of a marzipan leaf. 'The King's invited all neighboring lords and ladies to come and assist to Moliere's new play. Hence the cakes.' He said, gesturing towards the numerous cakes, all as intricate as the other, covered in different shapes and colors, positioned on the tables around him. 'They're coming tomorrow, and I'm not even halfway done with what the King ordered!' he said with worry.

Nellie simply patted his back soothingly. 'Don't worry. You'll do great. You always do. Remember the Pheasant incident? You were the one who instantly had the idea to put the honey together with the nuts, solving the whole situation. Remember the time when Tyler dropped the whole second course on the floor? You were the one that managed to get everything back in order, and got it all ready in less than an hour. So relax. You'll get these cakes done in no time.'

Abraham gave her a grateful smile. 'Thanks Nells. You always know what to say.'

'No problem. I've got to go now. De Henderson will be back from His Majesty's awakening any time now.'

She gave him a hug before leaving the room to make her way back to her mistress's apartments.

**A/N: I'm back :) I hope you liked it. Nothing interesting, just to set the scene. I am aware that some things may not be historically correct. **


	2. Chapter 2: November Ball

_Versailles, France, 7th of November 1664_

Today, the sky was made up of clouds, barely allowing any sunlight to peek through. Yet even without any illuminating rays, the garden still shone with majestic splendour, perfectly reflecting what a royal garden should look like, especially one that belongs to Louis XIV. Giant tents were being put up on the far left side of the garden, the men preparing for tonight's loud festivities.

Nellie looked up at the sky, hoping that snow would not fall tonight, so to allow the nighttime celebrations to go as smoothly as possible. She didn't want her brother to worry even more because of snowflakes falling on his meticulously worked on cakes. She shook her head, a smile etched on her delicate face, silently laughing at Abraham's constant worries. She picked up the brush and made way to where her mistress was sitting.

'Are you excited for the ball my lady?'

She asked, carefully brushing away any knots and tangles.

'I am, but i still have not decided what i am to wear tonight. I want to look my best.'

Nellie simply nodded; her mistress had always been very careful about her appearance, constantly making sure that she was wearing clothes that were on with the current fashion, verifying that her hairstyle corresponded with what the rest of the court was sporting. Nellie tried harder than the day before at achieving an even more intricate hairstyle. She was in the middle of curling a strand of hair when her mistress asked her something that nearly caused her to burn herself with the curling iron by surprise.

'Tell me Nellie, since you most probably don't have anything exciting planned for tonight, what do you think of accompanying me to the ball. Since i don't know many people, you will certainly be of great company to me.'

Nellie stared at the lady in shock, too astonished to muster up anything to say. She had never had the chance of going to one of the king's famous balls, only seeing a glimpse of them through the windows or from serving the long tables with a multitude of varied dishes.

'But I don't own anything that is anywhere suitable enough for such an occasion.' she stammered in shock.

But Lady de Henderson simply waved her hand dismissively

'You can take one of my older frocks. We'll get it fitted before tonight.'

And with that said, it was done.

* * *

The night was filled with excitement, lanterns glowing amongst the trees in the darkness. The stars filled the night sky, the full moon adding light to the already lit up terrain. Chatter could be heard from every corner of the garden, the guests slowly arriving. Nellie peeked shyly through one of the doors that led outside, fiddling with a loose bow on her borrowed bodice. She wasn't accustomed to such events, and had no idea as to how to behave. She breathed in a deep sigh and evened out the front of her borrowed dress with the palm of her hand, smoothing out all of the creases of her turquoise gown.

'That's a very nice dress. The color becomes you.' she jumped as she heard an unknown voice behind her. She turned only to find herself face to face with a tall man with brown eyes twinkling with amusement. 'Blue's also my favorite color.'

She only managed a surprised stammer in reply. 'It's not blue. It's turquoise.'

The stranger chuckled. 'So it is. But turquoise is also a form of blue isn't it? Or is it green?' He contemplated for a second before turning back onto the conversation. 'Oh, but where are my manners? The name's Blake, Duke de Landry, at your service.' The Duke bowed and took nellie's hand in his and took it to his lips, making her blush. He looked up at her. 'And may I ask for your name?'

'Nellie Dubois.' She said shyly, casting her eyes down, trying to look anywhere but his face.

'Nellie.' He said, as if he were savoring the name on his tongue.'You look pretty nervous. Are you not accustomed to such balls? Well then, let me be your companion for the night!' He stretched his arm out, so that she could take it. He led her out into the garden, where people were now gathered and the sounds of chatter were buzzing around and the orchestra was playing. It was a fresh November night, and the breeze was making her shiver, but it did not matter to her as she looked around the garden, her eyes as big as dinner plates as they took in all of the shiny decorations and the luxurious foods, the beautiful gowns and dresses. She was studying the crowds around her, taking in all the different dresses, when her gaze stopped at a handsome young man with dark brown hair who had somewhat similar features to the ones of her companion. He was standing next to a table, a glass of wine in hand, and was staring at her. Some elegantly dressed woman that looked remotely familiar was talking to him, but he seemed to be ignoring her and looked completely captivated by Nellie. Her cheeks flushed red and she turned away, perturbed by the man's insisting gaze. She followed Blake to the buffet table, accepting the glass of wine that he offered to her.

'So, Nellie. How are you finding your first ball so far?' the man grinned, knowing fully well that she was already completely blown away by the shimmering decor and the glimmering gowns.

'It's amazing.' She answered, taking a sip from the cup. She then looked up at the man besides her. 'But it just makes you think, you know?'

'Think about what?'

'About the whole injustice of the system. The rich take everything, leaving the poor with nothing. It's bound to fail at some point' She looked at Blake, gauging his reaction. She had often had such conversations with her brother, but even though he had always agreed with her opinions, he had always made it clear that these opinions were not to be spoken of in front of the ladies and men of the court. It was simply not polite to do so, and it certainly did not agree with the strict Etiquette.

But he simply nodded with a smile on his face, as if he knew something she didn't.

'Yes. It is quite thought provoking.' He said simply, before continuing on with another lighter topic of conversation. As they talked, she could feel the other young man's gaze boring into her back, making her more and more uneasy as time passed by. This was going to be a long night.

**A/N: I'm so sorry for the late update. I was very ****_very _****busy, and I had honestly no idea how to continue on with the story. Just to be clear and to avoid any confusion, the play that Abraham mentions takes place the day after the Ball, and the Ball is somewhat of a welcome Ball.** **:) I am aware that some things may not be historically correct.**


	3. Chapter 3: An unexpected turn of events

_Versailles, France, 8th of November 1664_

The morning sun peeked through the narrow gaps in between the grey clouds, the first light illuminating the gardens with an orange glow, reflecting onto the canals. The daylight shimmered over the snow on the hedges and the detailed sculpture, the white coat covering the peaceful garden. Servants were cleaning up the remainders of the party, cakes and pastries scattered all over the stained tablecloths, half-empty champagne flutes distributed amongst the vacant tables.

Nellie was lying across a couch with golden embellishments inside the first floor of the castle. The wide windows let the light shine in, tickling her delicate face. She was still wearing last night's gown, the only difference being that it now was covered in creases and the bodice loosened around her waist. Her face started to scrunch as the morning birds started singing, the sound waking her up from her deep sleep. As she pushed herself up, she studied the room, wondering how she had come to find herself in such a place. Studying the regally decorated room, she noticed a familiar figure strew across a similar couch next to her. She approached it shyly, studying the figure's face, only to recognise the friendly Duke de Landry from the night before. Her face pleated into a frown, wondering how she got herself into such a situation. She closed her eyes, and tried to remember the events of the night before. But to no avail. All that resided were some distant memories of chatter, champagne and a pounding headache. She internally groaned at her irresponsibility, but couldn't help but grin thinking as to what her brother would say. He would probably scold her for her carelessness and her thoughtless attitude to the Etiquette. She let out a soft giggle. The Etiquette would surely not agree with the situation she was in: sleeping in a room with a man that was practically a stranger to her. But she had always thought of the Etiquette as some nonsensical rules the noble came up when they had nothing else to do. Her thoughts were on her usual ramble and complaints about the many useless precepts when a deep voice disturbed her from her internal babble.

'Good Morning.' His voice was still hazy from sleep. She looked over to the neighbouring couch to stare at Blake. He was sitting up, stretching out his arms, trying to wake himself up from his comfortable sleep. He then followed by rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through his hair, messing it up in the process. He met her gaze, revealing eyes still blurry from his sleep. A smile formed on his lips.

She realised that she had been staring at him for too long and tore her gaze away. She stared at the marble tiled floor, listening to the uncomfortable silence grow. She heard him break the silence as he tried to stand up, a groan resonating in the room. She stifled her laugh. She looked at up at him, seeing his face contorted by pain and uncomfort.

'Headache?' She watched him nod, clutching his forehead with his hands. He proceeded to sit back down, but this time next to her. He closed his eyes, trying to numb the unforgivable pain of the hangover.

'What time is it?' He mumbled. Nellie obliged and looked around the room for some clock or timepiece. She found one in the corner, carved out of dark wood.

'Seven.' She felt rather than saw him stand up abruptly. He cursed under his breath, forgetting his pounding headache.

'I've got to go. The King wakes up in half an hour and I still need to change.' He gestured at his wrinkled clothes, a worried expression etched onto his handsome face.

'Can't you just miss it?' She couldn't help but question. She had always wondered why the King waking up was such a big ceremony, and why all of the court hurried to attend. There wasn't anything special to watching someone change and get ready for the day.

But Blake just shook his head. 'That would be very unwise. The King remembers everyone, and he remembers if you go or if you don't. And if you don't...' He left the sentence unfinished, shrugging his shoulders.

He stood in front of her, taking her hand in his. 'It's been great getting to know you, Nellie Dubois. I hope to -'

His sentence was put to an abrupt halt as they both heard a distant high pitched scream. Both looked at each other, shock and surprise marked all over their faces. Nellie stood up, ignoring her headache, and headed out of the room, Blake in tow, and hurried towards the general direction of the scream.

The scream rang out again, closer this time, and they followed it, running by numerous corridors and hallways, hurriedly trying to find the nature of the worrying sound.

They stopped as they reached a dead end, their ragged breaths the only things to be heard. Blake pointed towards a small door. As he reached for the handle, the same scream came from behind it, only this time it was muffled, quieter. In panic, he quickly opened the door revealing a small dark room, and in the middle of it, was a lady dressed in a fancy gown, lying on the ground, a knife stuck into her shoulder. The dark crimson colour of blood was spreading from the wound onto the fabric, growing by the second. Short rough breaths escaped her pale lips. As Blake quickly ran to her side, examining the worsening cut, Nellie looked around the chamber, looking for any signs of the agressor. Her eyes stopped at a small window. It was small, but a full-grown body could still fit through it. It was wide open. She ran over to it and looked out. It opened out towards the garden maze, a fountain placed in then middle of it. She saw a figure run through it. It was tall, a figure that could only belong to a man. She saw him running away.

'Nellie!' She turned around at the sound of her name, seeing Blake kneeling next to the injured woman. 'Get some help.'

She returned to her senses and did as he asked. She briskly walked out of the door, taking a glance at the woman's face. An eerie feeling washed over her. She hadn't noticed before, the shock of seeing an injured woman making her completely oblivious to her distint features. She recognised this woman. She recognised her from the ball. She recognised her as the woman who was talking to the strange man that wouldn't stop staring at her.

* * *

'Are you all right?' She felt the palm of his hand brush against her shoulder, a comforting gesture. They were both leaning against a wall outside of the woman's apartments. Her name was Countess Lily de Beauharnais. The past hour had been hectic, and she was now under the care of a palace doctor. Not that he was going to be much use anyways. Doctors these days knew nothing. Nellie thought about the last time she saw her mother, her arm open, bleeding so to release all the bad 'moods'. Her mother hadn't even had anything to do with blood, just a lung infection. Medicinal herbs would have been enough. But no. The doctor kept insisting that the bloodletting was the only way, saying that it was a procedure well followed in court. It only resulted in her mother's death. She felt tears starting to form in her eyes. She quickly wiped them away using the heel of her hand. She missed her mother. She sighed deeply, turning her trail of thoughts towards the recent turn of events, trying to use it as a means of distraction.

Was that man she had seen at the ball, the one that had kept his insisting gaze on her for the duration of the entire night, the one that had injured de Beauharnais?

'Who do you think it was?' His deep voice asked. She looked over at Blake, following his gaze to the window, a perfect view on the garden. It was complete daylight now. The snow had turned brown and sludgy in some places, dirtied by the many horse hooves that passed through the grounds daily. A couple was playing with a small dog, who was enjoying himself in the snow, rolling around in the white powder. Should she tell him?

'I have an idea.' She said slowly, watching him turn around to her, tearing his gaze away from the window, surprise written all over his face. 'It's not anything definitive, just an assumption. An idea.' She said hurriedly.

'Go on.'

'Last night, at the ball, this strange man kept staring at me, and de Beauharnais was the woman that incessantly talked to him. This morning, when I looked out of the window, while you were taking care of her, I saw a dark figure running through the maze. It was a man's figure.'

'So are you saying that that man was the same man that injured lady de Beauharnais?' He questioned. His fingers where pinching the bridge of his nose, a frown etched onto his brow. She simply nodded in response. He mused a bit more before explaining 'I noticed him staring. That's why I brought you inside later in the evening. And I know him. It would make a lot of sense if he were...'

He broke off into silent muttering. She watched his mouth move as he dwelled on the situation, how he dwelled on this 'mystery'. His chin suddenly jerked up. He looked around for something, before giving up. 'What time is it?' He asked, the question making her look around for the answer. She found a small clock. 'Eight thirty. You missed the King's awakening.' She teased. He nodded, but he was too deep in thought to reflect on her good humour. He started walking away, towards the end of the corridor they had been standing in, turning around the corner. Nellie stood there, wondering what to do, when he turned back, raised an eyebrow and grinned.

'What are you waiting for?'

She blushed, following him. She followed him down many corridors and bends, and started to recognise the path they were taking. She was following him to the King's royal apartments. He stopped in front of a door, the door to the King's bedroom. He turned to glance at her, an apologetic look painted all over his face. She instantly knew what it was for.

'It's all right. I'll wait out here.' He nodded back at her and opened one of the double doors, and closing it behind him. Women were not allowed to assist to the King's Mornings. They were instead expected to attend the Queen's. She leaned against the wall, patiently waiting.

It wasn't long before the doors opened again, but this time a whole crowd of men walked through. They were of all shapes and size. Young and old. Handsome and not so handsome. Richly dressed and simply dressed. There were about a hundred of them walking through the double doors. As the crowd thinned down to only one or two, she saw Blake's face appear.

'You can come in now.' On his face she saw an austere and serious look that she had never seen on him before. But to be fair she had only known him for one night.

She followed him into the room, and she couldn't help but gasp at how regal it was. Everything was embellished in gold, the room shining as she walked in. A grandiose chandelier was hanging from the ceiling, the crystals glinting from the sunlight that passed through the window. The bed was draped in expensive red fabric, ornate with gold thread. And next to it stood the monarch, the King Louis XIV.

She hadn't known what to expect. She had never seen the King, only pictures of him. He was still young, still handsome, and there was this rconfidence, this charisma, that oozed out of him.

'This is Nellie Dubois. She was with me when de Beauharnais got stabbed.' She curtsied, wobbling a little bit in her heels due to nervousness.

He looked at her with an approving gaze, making her blush. 'She is lovely, de Landry. Miss Dubois, de Landry says that you have an idea as to whom the attacker may be.'

She opened her mouth to answer but Blake interjected before she could say anything. 'She believes that the attacker is Michael de Vauzelles, your majesty. It wouldn't be surprising after his father's behaviour.'

She watched as the King nodded, his long fingers stoking his elegant moustache. 'De Landry, I think you should investigate on this matter. We don't want to find another injured person, especially with the play coming up this afternoon.' He turned around, a sign for them to leave the room. They proceeded to do so, after bowing and curtsying. When they reached the double doors, the King's voice resonated throughout the room once more. 'Actually, de Landry, I think that this time, you should take Miss Dubois with you. She was with you the whole time, and her young intelligent eyes must certainly have picked up some valuable information. Besides, to have such a pretty girl by your side to help you find this man would certainly not hurt.'

She saw Blake tense up, his grip on the door handle hardening, his knuckles turning white. 'Yes your Majesty.' He replied, a calm in his voice that did not correspond with his stiff demeanor. He pushed down the door handle and opened the door. They walked out of the room and out of the apartment in silence, before Blake found an empty room nearby. He slumped into one of the armchairs, letting out a big sigh. His knuckles were still white, his fists balled up.

Nellie crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look. 'Guess we're stuck with each other then. Care to explain what's going on?'

* * *

**A/N: Hello. I am really sorry for the late update. I had no idea as to how to continue, but now that we have something actually going on, i might update sooner. I hope you like this chapter, and I'm sorry for making Michael the bad guy (that will maybe change.). Next, the play! Who will be the next victim? ;) **

**I am aware that not everything might be historically correct. **


	4. Chapter 4: That new Chestnut Tree

_Versailles, France, 8th of November 1664_

She looked at him, her arms still crossed over her chest. He looked at her with an air of defeat, and expression of insecurity. He looked back down, staring at his twiddling thumbs.

'I work as a spy for the King. I am some sort of a detective. There are many dark secrets in this court, and I am here to solve any mysteries, stop the spreading of any scandals, and try to stop menacing plots.' He sighed looking at her. 'I've been doing this for the past three years, snooping around Versailles, trying to find clues for the current mission I'm in. After the first year of doing so, I found plans of some kind of plot to overthrow the King. The man in question I had to find had a soft spot for women, so the King gave me a companion, someone to work with, someone to help me get the man. She helped me, and we caught him, but not without a price.' He sighed again, looking up at the ceiling, as if he where trying to stop invisible tears. 'I found her, laying there. A smile on her face. So peaceful. Her long hair was undone and was splayed all around her face, just like a halo. She looked beautiful. She looked at peace. But she was dead.'

She watched him as a tear rolled down his cheek. He turned to look at her, his gaze holding hers, piercing through her soul. 'She reminds me of you. You're both so similar. That's why I didn't like the idea of you joining forces with me. That's why I didn't like the King's idea. I just don't want another death on my hands,' his eyes were filled with so much regret and sorrow, and she had no idea as to what to say. She hadn't expected him to be so honest, to tell her everything. There was evidently more to him than the charming young gentleman that she got to know in the course of the past two days. She didn't know whether she liked it or not.

She walked up to him, and looked down into his sad and pained eyes.

'I am very sorry about the girl's death. I can see that she meant a lot to you, and that you still miss her very much.' She said softly, resting her small hand onto his broad shoulder ' But right now we have practically a murderer on the loose and we can't really sit here and reminiscence about the past. And don't you worry about me, I can take care of my self.'

He looked at her for a moment. They stood this way for a few seconds, just staring at each, a mutual understanding passing through them. Still looking at her, he stood up, a small tight smile painted onto his features.

'You're right.' He said, a certain light appeared in his eyes that could be described as hope and certainty that hadn't inhabited them just a few moments ago, even if it was just a pale glimmer. 'It's the past, and there is nothing I can do about it. And you can come with me. But only on one condition.' He paused, a tantalising grin forming onto his lips 'you're going to have to learn how to fence. I don't want you to get involved with the darkest secrets of Versailles without knowing how to defend yourself'

Before even waiting for an answer, he takes her by the arm and drags her out of the room. 'Come on now, we've got to get ready for the play.'

* * *

Nellie stood in the hallway that led to the entrance of the theatre. She was placed in front of a tall and wide window, and through it she could see the back of the garden. She could see the labyrinth.

They would have to look at it in closer detail, she thought. Maybe they could find something there. But she quickly dismissed the thought, not wanting images of the crime tarnishing her view of the magnificent garden. She loved the gardens of Versailles. She loved the work and innovation that was involved behind it. She loved how meticulously Le Nôtre, the King's most trusted gardener, worked on every single detail, making all of the individual pieces of the splendid grounds come together and unite as one. She had a special regard for gardens. Her father had worked in the gardens of the Château of Chantilly, a Château that was only two hours away from here by horseback. That was also where her and Abraham grew up, in the servants headquarters. Whilst Abraham hung out in the kitchen, notably with the pastry chef, she followed her father around the garden. He would teach her the latin name of all the different plants, he would tell her which ones would be useful to soothe a sore throat, he would tell her which one would relieve a burn. She watched him cut hedges and plant flowers, water the greenery and take care of the garden. He loved the Chantilly gardens, taking pride in it and taking care of it, and he did, until the day of his death, one year ago. Nellie felt the tears grow in her eyes, and she quickly wiped away with the heel of her hands, leaving only the redness behind. She looked once more at the Versailles gardens before turning around and making way to the theatre.

* * *

'Where were you?'

She sat next to him near the back, and took off her expensive gloves, and whispered back.

'Just taking care of some business. But enough about me. I heard that you failed to steal de Beauharnais' necklace.'

She felt the young man next to her tense. She knew that if she were to look over, his face would be pale and sheen with sweat. She smiled to herself, glad of the effect she caused on people.

'I tried, Madame, I did. But she kept struggling and screaming. I tried to render her unconscious-'

'By stabbing her in the shoulder?' The lady scoffed. She couldn't trust anyone these days. She always had to do the dirty deed herself. 'And then you managed to attract the attention of de Landry, the royal detective?' Her voice had raised from a hushed whisper to a contained scream-whisper, making the man next to her flinch momentarily.

'I am very sorry Madame. I didn't mean to do so.' He replied bashfully.

The lady simply rolled her eyes at his response and pointed her lace fan at a broad shouldered figure only a few rows away. 'He's here, you blithering idiot. Because of your careless mistake, he's going to be keep a careful eye on every single corner of Versailles, and our plan will be even harder to execute.'

The man next to her thought it to be wiser if he just kept quiet, and they both watched as a small lithe woman took place next to the man they had just previously been talking about.

* * *

'Where were you?'

She sat next to him, bowing her head so to hide the redness of her eyes. She quickly wiped her wet palms onto her plain dress.

'Just looking at the gardens. They've planted a new chestnut tree near the grand canal.'

He nodded at her, smiling. He knew of her fascination of the gardens. She had briefly told him about her father and her admiration for le Nôtre last night, when she had drunk one or two too many glasses of champagne.

'How did it go with de Henderson?' He asked. She had been worried that her mistress would tell her off for her absence.

'Aylin, another maid, replaced me. So Lady de Henderson let it slip for this time, since she wasn't late for the Queen's awakening. But I must be careful for it not to happen again.' She looked at him pointedly. He simply shrugged in response.

'You're the one that wanted to get involved in this. But don't worry. I'll ask the King to tell your mistress that you won't always be able to be there to help with her morning rituals. Instead, I'll be able to bring you by fencing.' He grinned as she jabbed him in the ribs with her pointy elbow. That was when the curtains on the stage started to rise. He discreetly looked around, the grin disappearing from his face.

'Time to get serious.' He whispered.

* * *

**A/N: Hi! First of all, I'm sorry for any confusion over Lady de Beauharnais. Her name is now Lily after a kind anon reminded me that Aylin was already a maid. *facepalm* sorry guys. Also, little fact for y'all: the castle of Chantilly was where whipped cream was invented. Hence why in french it's called 'creme Chantilly' (Chantilly cream) Anyways hope you liked it :) **

**I am aware that not everything might be historically correct.**


	5. Chapter 5: A Decoy

_Versailles, France, 8th of November 1664_

The deep red velvet curtains drew open, and the play began. Nellie was astounded; the different acts and scenes made her happy, they made her laugh, and sometimes they made her sad. She found herself merrily clapping along, enjoying herself. She turned to take a glance at her neighbour. He seemed a bit more relaxed, allowing himself to loosen up. But she still noticed the nearly invisible frown etched on his forehead, the slight tension of his jaw. He was observing. Not only the play, but everything around him.

* * *

The play was nearing to an end, the last scene just starting, when his disappearance was noticed. One of the characters, key to this last scene, appeared to be missing. The audience started murmuring as nothing happened, and this murmuring only got louder as the curtains were drawn to a close. Everybody was wondering what was going on. Nellie looked around, wondering the same. As she did so, she felt someone's hand on top of hers.

'Stay still. I'm going to look at what's going on,' she watched Blake walk towards the stage and talk with one of the actors. He then hurriedly walked towards the doors, and seemingly appeared to ask the men guarding them to keep them lock, and not to let anyone out. He turned back to look at her, and she could see from his gaze that this was serious. Still turned towards her, she noticed his eyes moving in a sweeping motion before returning hers. She understood that he wanted her to notice. To observe. And she proceeds to do so, looking at the richly dressed courtisans around her. When she subtly looked behind her, she noticed a familiar dark gaze looking at her, and recognised Michael de Vauzelles. A small smirk was painted on his lips, and she noticed the empty seat next to him. This aroused her suspicions. This was a royal event; mandatory for all ladies and lords, and this hall had been seated accordingly for the number of guests. She was also pretty sure that the only spare seat left in the hall when she came in was hers.

She turned back to where Blake was standing, by the door. He immeditely noticed her, and looked where she was pointed at. His frown deepened, and upon seeing the empty seat, moved towards de Vauzelles. She saw him take the man by the arm and pulls him towards the exit as discreetly as possible. Forgetting about his order, she stood up, and followed the two men out of the theatre hall.

* * *

'What do you have to say for yourself?'

Michael was sat down on a chair in a small dark room, Nellie and Blake stood up in front of him. Much to Blake's annoyance, he wasn't scared; he still had the same aggravating smirk on his face.

'New assistant de Landry?' he replied, nodding in Nellie's direction. She didn't know what to make of the dark haired man. To be completely honest, he unsettled her slightly. 'I remember the last one. Such a shame. What was her name? Alice? A-'

'-You leave Ali out of this,' Blake interrupted as calmly as possible, but his skin had turned white, betraying his troubled emotions. Michael's smirk only grew. Blake continued, ignoring the other man's expression, 'We're not stupid de Vauzelles. We know you're involved somehow. We saw you running from de Beauharnais's window. There was an empty seat next to you in the theatre when I'm pretty sure it was occupied when the play began. Don't take us for fools. Even if you're not going to say anything, we're still going to find proof. So you might as well tell us everything.'

Whilst he had been talking, he had gotten closer to the marquis, and a there was a menacing tone in his voice. Nellie knew that if she had been in that seat instead of Michael, she would have been scared out of her wits. But the dark haired man was sat there, a cool and unbothered expression on his face. But open closer inspection, one would notice the slight trembling of his hand, the slightest of tension in his jaw.

'I don't even know what happened. Care to elaborate?'

'One of the actors was found dead.'

Nellie couldn't help a gasp escape her mouth, and her hand flew up to cover it. Both men ignored her, and continued.

'So? Just because you saw the empty seat next to me. Doesn't mean I knew them.'

'Oh but you do,' this time it was Michael's turn to pale slightly, and Blake's to grin.

'What do you mean?'

'The woman, next to you. You talked with her.'

'And? That doesn't mean we're friends,' there was a slight hesitation in his voice.

Blake laughed a humourless laugh, 'Well it sure looked like it. Now, just tell me her name, and what she's up to, and we'll let you go.'

'I'm not going to tell you anything, you're just wasting your time,' he spat at Blake. He then straightened up and closed his mouth, his lips sealed in a tight line. But there was still that trembling in his hands. There was still the tension in his jaw.

Blake looked at him, shaking his head, 'You're not doing yourself any favours,' he then turned to Nellie, 'I'll be right back. We can't keep him in here. I'll quickly ask if there's a free room available that can be guarded,' seeing her worried expression, he quickly addded, 'Don't worry, I asked a guard to follow us, and he's guarding the door. If he even thinks of doing anything, just scream.'

He left, leaving Nellie alone with the suspicious marquis.

As Blake left her behind in the room with the unsettling man, she straightened herself, and crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn't going to show any signs of weakness, and she wasn't going to let him intimidate her. She looked him straight in the eyes, not showing any signs of backing off. If he expected her to behave like all the other ladies in court, he was wrong. She wasn't bashfully going to bow her head and obediently avoid his gaze. She wasn't going to shy away.

'I'm not the bad guy here,' he said, watching her. Her eyes widen; she was surprised by his sincere tone. She noticed that now that Blake was gone, there was a certain openness about him, his eyes devoid of the snarky look that had resided there just moments ago.

'What do you mean?' She questioned, staring at him suspiciously.

'I'm saying that I'm just a decoy, a distraction. I don't have anything to do with all those cases. You're not going to get anything useful from me.'

'But the lady next to you? Isn't she the mastermind behind it all?'

'She's simply my cousin. She wasn't feeling well - she doesn't bode well with cramped places- so she went out for some air right before de laundry ordered the guys to lock the doors.' In his eyes, she only saw honesty and truthfully. His eyes were a nice warm brown. She shook her head, trying to regain her composure.

'And what about when we saw you running into the labyrinth when the Countess was attacked?'

'I was simply playing hide and seek with my niece and nephews,' he shrugged.

'But why didn't you tell that to the duke?' She asked softly, drawn in by his eyes. She hadn't noticed how beautiful and vulnerable they were.

He sighed, 'De Landry and I... Well, we have history. We used to be childhood friends; Our families grew up next to each other. De Landry's elder brother, Simon, and I, used to have the same tutors, the same weaponry and riding trainers. We were best friends. Until...' He paused, and shook his head. Grief and sadness struck his eyes.

'Until?' She prompted, the curiosity inside of her wanting to know more.

'Well, I don't know how to say this nicely, but one day Simon and I went hunting, and he fell off his horse. Unfortunetly, he died from the injury. Before he died, he told me that he wanted me to marry his younger sister, Clarissa, so that I could rule his estate- his father had already died, leaving him in charge. He requested this because he trusted me and knew me, and would rather leave me the future of his title in my hands than in the foolish hands of his brother. Blake had always been jealous of us, and Simon was sure he would only bring dishonour to the family. Unfortunately, before I could do anything, Blake had already come back from his post in the army, and had forbidden me from asking his sister's hand. I told him about his brother's last words, but he did not care and refused to listen. Since then, we have avoided each other. Until now. I see that he still despises me.'

It took Nellie a few seconds to digest all of this. She couldn't believe that Blake could be so ignorant of other people's feelings and so oblivious. She had thought of him as someone that looked after people, and cared about them. Weren't the emotions on his face when he told her the story about his lost female companion revealing enough.

'Why should I believe you? I don't even know you,' she looked up at him accusingly.

He retorted, the spiteful tone audible in his voice, 'And why should you believe Blake? As far as I know, you've only known him for three days. Before that you were just a little maid.'

She couldn't help but look away at his harsh words. Even though it hurt, she knew that he was right. She toyed with the lace on her bodice, thinking about the story Michael just told her. Who should she trust?

The door opened suddenly, making her jump and snap out of her deep thoughts. She turned towards the door, and saw Blake walking towards them, followed by a pair of guards.

'Marquis de Vauzelles, I am here to inform you that you are under temporary arrest. These two soldiers will take you to a room with all the necessary accommodations in which you will reside until further notice. Am I clear?' He was staring at the man in question, his eyes as hard as steel. Michael simply nodded in response, and was lead out of the room by the two guards.

He turned to Nellie as they left the room, the hardness dissapearing from his brown eyes. It was replaced by a gentleness and care that made Nellie wonder about Michael's tale. Surely that couldn't be the same man that refused his brother's happiness?

'Are you ok? You're as pale as a sheet,' he moved closer to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She felt the heat from his hand through the thin fabric of her dress, making her shiver slightly.

She simply shook her hand and smiled to show that she was feeling allright. He smiled in response, seemingly happy that she was alright. But she wasn't being truthful, and all the emotions bubbling inside her were giving her a headache.

'Come on. Let's go outside, you need some air,' and with that said he offered her his arm, and led her outside towards the gardens.

* * *

**A/N: I am so so so so sorry for the late update. I'm making up this story as I go along and I had, and still have, the biggest writer's block, so if you have ideas or suggestions, just leave a review. Also bonus points to whoever manages to find out the hints from a certain book series (biggest hint: look at the character names). **


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